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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124024">Sweet Tooth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarned/pseuds/starwarned'>starwarned</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fictober 2020 [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Banter, Fictober, Fictober 2020, First Kiss, Flufftober, Flufftober 2020, M/M, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Watford (Simon Snow), literally just dummies arguing and kissing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:41:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124024</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarned/pseuds/starwarned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fictober Day 18</p>
<p>prompt: warm apple cider </p>
<p>Simon minds his own business and Baz causes meaningless drama.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch &amp; Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fictober 2020 [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>104</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sweet Tooth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>preface: I did indeed write this on the 18th! I just have been out of service range for a few days so I'm posting it now!</p>
<p>prompt is from <a href="https://subpar-selkie.tumblr.com/post/628080856195547136/flufftober-prompts">this list</a> on tumblr</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How can you drink that?” I say, carefully sliding my hands into my pockets and cocking my hip while I stand towering over him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I tower over Simon anyway, but especially right now. He’s sitting in the center of his bed, holding a mug of cider in his hands and taking dutiful sips. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He sharply looks up at me and glares. “How can you drink blood?” he shoots back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a pretty decent retort, I’ll give him that. Not that I’d ever show it. I cock an eyebrow up and eye him with disdain. “Your claims that I’m a vampire, while annoying, are so far off the mark that it’s almost endearing that you continue to try and prove it.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Simon’s ears flush. “You’re telling me you don’t like warm drinks to heat your lizard body?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I frown. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s a new one</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Lizard body, Snow? Running out of vampire references already? We’ve barely started.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I’m still standing too close to him, my knees almost touching his bed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And of course I like warm drinks,” I say. “Preferably good ones, though.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I really don’t have that much against apple cider. I just wanted to get under Simon’s skin. And I succeeded in that so there’s really no reason for me to continue antagonizing him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I see how much sugar you put in your coffee, Baz,” he says. “I know you don’t have anything against sweet drinks.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I roll my eyes and finally force myself to step away from his bed. If I stay there much longer, I’m absolutely going to shove the mug out of his hands and kiss him. Even if he tastes like apple cider and whipped cream. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He takes another sip of his cider and comes away with a whipped cream moustache. I instinctively whip my head around because that’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>most adorable and most idiotic thing I have ever laid my eyes on</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I can’t bear to watch it any longer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to try some?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I turn back around, my eyebrows furrowed. I’m not even certain that I heard him correctly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When I see that he’s holding his mug out slightly with the most innocent expression on his face, I nearly choke on my own tongue. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Simon shrugs, holding out his mug towards me. Like it’s not probable that I’m going to smack it out of his hands and then insult him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don’t do that. I surprise myself and take a step to the bed and carefully grab the mug, my fingers gently pressing against his before I tug back. The mug is warm and Simon’s staring at me. I feel my cheeks heat up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well?” Simon prompts, waiting for me to try some. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This is a scenario that I’m not comfortable with and I have half a mind to throw the mug at Simon and run away. I don’t. I take a slow sip of the cider (and yes, it tastes like cider so I don’t like it). Simon looks at me, waiting for a verdict. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” I say, not handing the mug back yet because it’s warming up my fingers and if I don’t have something to hold onto, I’m afraid I might spontaneously combust.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right,” Simon says, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and standing up so I’m still looking down at him but it’s less sharp of an angle now. He’s far too close for comfort. “You just don’t appreciate the pure goodness of cider.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I roll my eyes and resist the urge to step back. Instead, I shove the mug forward and into Simon’s chest. He immediately puts his hands on either side of mine to hold the mug. My eyes go wide and I look him right in the eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Simon keeps his hands around mine and uses his grip to lift the mug to his lips so he can take a drink. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before I can ridicule him for holding onto my hands for so long, he’s lunged forward into my mouth. He kisses me and there’s nothing I can do but kiss him back. I don’t know where this is coming from and I don’t know why and he may very well stab me the second we pull back, but I’m not going to stop. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When I start to open my mouth at his tongues’ prompting, I feel warm liquid fill my mouth. I tug back and splutter. I think it’s blood at first but then recognize the cider that Simon has practically just spit into my mouth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the fuck, Snow?” I demand, wiping my mouth after I’ve already spit most of the drink out. The mug is still in my hands even though Simon has let go of me. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs. His cheeks are tinged pink. (Crowley, he’s so fucking lovely). </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In a split-second decision that Simon Snow would be proud of, I set the mug down on the desk behind me and rush forward to take Simon’s face in my hands, kissing him harshly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a fight. It’s like any interaction I have with Simon where he’s brave and impulsive and I take my time deciding how best to get at Simon’s weak points. He grips me around the waist and I shove my hands into his tumbling curls. I discover that when I tug on them, he makes the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard. (And I discover that when he bites on my bottom lip, I can’t stop myself from moaning into his mouth. It’s embarrassing but I’m not going to stop). </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When one of his hands travels away from my waist and finds its way to my arse, I gasp and pull away from him completely. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, that’s a terrible way to get someone to kiss you,” I say to him, trying not to think about how fucked up his hair is from me tugging on it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t exactly complain,” he retorts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I blanche. “Sod off.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He rushes at me and kisses me again. He’s warm and he still tastes like bloody apple cider. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
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